"I am ninety-eight now, legally blind, and a pain in the ass to all my friends and much of my family with my constant rantings about the Trump debacle. . . " Roger Angell would like you to vote:
"This, I think, is what O’Connor always wanted: anguish, laid bare. And then a gorgeous moment of communion, a weight lifted, a reminder that we do not have to be alone in our despair."
@amandapetrusich
As I left the office, I mostly thought about how lucky I had been. I was one of the original editors brought in to help shape the Web site when the magazine started getting serious about the Internet
and I apologize that I was able to respond to only a small fraction of your ideas. I would like to offer this note of poor consolation and encourage you to keep going, as talent will find a way.
It was also a daily joy to see The New Yorker staff writers surprise my inbox with virtuosic “blog posts”: Hilton Als, Peter Schjeldahl, Rebecca Mead, Nick Paumgarten, Emily Nussbaum, Alex Ross, Nathan Heller, Michael Schulman. . . so many others. . . a wonderful list
"When Kenny gets a phone call from a restaurant guidebook that wants to include Shopsin's, he sometimes says that the place is no longer in operation, identifying himself as someone who just happens to be there moving out the fixtures."
Finally, it’s easy to feel pessimistic about the future of writing and artistic expression (especially after yesterday, lol) but . . . and this a bit of a mea culpa . . . my inbox overflowed with good ideas from freelancers and young writers. . .
It was a Wild West, experimental atmosphere (at least by New Yorker standards). I remember nervously calling Philip Roth when he decided to take issue with his Wikipedia page:
Let me once again give thanks to the writers and artists that I worked with. (One of my great joys was overseeing the Daily Cartoon for a bit; so amazing how cartoonists can wake up each day and look at the world sideways).
And even just in the last couple of weeks, a fantastic Mead on The Crown, a Gopnik doubleshot on JFK and Napoleon. There are so many pieces that spring to mind. All in service of the necessary task of comprehending the culture, of trying to offer delight and understanding.
"It’s fun to imagine Prince doing ordinary things here, like unwrapping a microwave pizza, waiting impatiently for it to cook, and then getting molten cheese plastered to the roof of his mouth."
@amandapetrusich
goes to Paisley Park
I once came to him complaining about how hard it was to find writing that was truly funny, and Roger, as if recalling a recent Tuesday, replied, “Harold Ross said the same thing.”
Hey New Yorkers, do you have a specific NY-related fear or anxiety? (Say, for example, being pushed on to subway tracks, and how the hell you get back up if it ever happens.) Taking submissions for a
@CurbedNY
column—we'll either confirm your worst fears, or debunk them!
Lovely Jiayang Fan remembrance of having Louise Glück as a teacher: "'There’s not much there.' As she said those words, a liquid shame poured over me. It was over."
"There were hand-painted signs that weren’t created as art, suitcases that were only meant for a one-way passage across the ocean, tiny mementos that outlived the reasons for their aura. It was all so worthless, yet so priceless."